


pick it up, pick it all up

by redfloweredconversations



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Abuse of Authority, F/M, Hurt Jake Peralta, M/M, Manipulation, Protective Amy Santiago, Protective Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn Nine-Nine), no beta we die like men, this is dark, vulture uses his position to manipulate jake into his own rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:54:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27677669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfloweredconversations/pseuds/redfloweredconversations
Summary: Things with the Vulture don't go as planned, and now Jake is sacrificing nearly everything to protect his squad.
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago, Jake Peralta/Keith Pembroke | The Vulture, Rosa Diaz & Jake Peralta
Comments: 11
Kudos: 129





	pick it up, pick it all up

Jake took a deep breath of the cold New York air to steady his nerves as he stood outside the Vulture’s apartment. His hands shook with nerves, but he evened his breathing and lifted his hand to knock. His captain had invited him over after a few minutes of sexist joking that made Jake want to boil his tongue. The only reason he had gone along with it was to try to make things better for his squad. The befriending plan had been his and Amy’s best plan. If he couldn’t get Pembroke to lay off his friends and his girlfriend, Jake was probably going to lose his shit at the man. 

“Ay, Peralta, why don’t you come in?” the Vulture said, answering Jake’s knock. He tried to smile, but it was probably more of a grimace. 

“Thanks, man,” he said, stepping into the apartment. It was exactly how Jake had expected it to be. The place reeked of booze. Beer cans littered the carpeted floor around an old couch. Posters of almost-nude or actually nude women were put up on almost all of the walls, along with a few rock bands, none of which Jake recognized. A TV sat in front of the couch, playing some sort of horror film featuring girls rather scantily clad, running through the woods. 

“Here man, have a beer. Why don’t you come sit down?” his captain asked, handing him a tall can, unopened. Jake accepted it, moving to sit on the chair next to the old couch, wanting to be as far away from this place as possible. “How’s it going with you and Santiago?”

“It’s been good, y’know, just hooking up every now and again, nothing serious,” he said, lying through his teeth. He popped open the beer tab, taking a long sip and nearly gagging at the taste. 

“She any good?” Pembroke asked with a face that made Jake want to punch him.

Jake thought quickly for a response. “Yeah, she’s not bad,” he ended up settling on. 

“Oh man, there was this one girl I was with for a time,” the Vulture started, going off on a lewd story that made Jake’s toes curl into the stained carpet. He immediately followed with another tale, giving Jake no time to get a word in. Jake sipped his beer, tuning out the story and instead focusing on the taste of the beer. Maybe if he threw up, he could get out of here faster? But could he get what he wanted in time....

Jake’s thoughts derailed as he realized the Vulture had stopped his story and was staring at him almost hungrily. “So, Peralta. We’ve never been on the best of terms, so I bet you’re wondering why I called you here tonight,” the man began, pulling out his phone. “C’mere, I gotta show you something,” he said, beckoning the younger man closer. Jake obliged, sitting on the far end of the couch from him. When the Vulture gave him a look, he sighed and scooted closer, the smell of booze becoming almost overwhelming. Pembroke hit something on his phone, and Jake froze as his voice came through the speaker, explaining his plan to his squad. 

“How did...did you bug the break room?” Jake asked once the recording was over, not entirely aware of what he was saying. A bad feeling settled in his gut. 

“Scully butt-dialed me. Thought I’d keep it going in case something happened,” he answered with a cruel smile. Jake’s mind swam as he tried to think of what to do. “I’m willing to offer you a deal. What do you want, Peralta?” the Vulture asked. “What is it you’re after,” he continued, leaning into Jake’s face and smiling when he moved back. 

Jake’s mind supplied an answer for him, and without thinking, he let it out. “I want you to give the squad back their cases,” he responded, brain gone numb. As an afterthought, he added, “and to treat them with a little respect. No more names or anything like that.” He blinked, realizing where his captain was going with this. “You can’t be serious,” Jake groaned. 

The Vulture gave a malicious grin. “I’m as serious as can be. Let me tell you what I want,” he said, leaning in close. Jake instinctively moved back. “I want to test out that ass of yours. See if it’s really as tight as it looks.” 

At that, Jake stood up quickly. “Well, it’s been great talking and thanks for the beer but-” 

“Not so fast, Peralta. Y’know, we wouldn’t want something to happen like what happened with your old precinct, now would we?” Pembroke had stood up, moving to the kitchen. Jake froze in his spot. “I could give you all the good cases, leaving your friends behind to do paperwork. Turn them against you. Jakey would be captain’s favorite, always getting to go out. They’d get real tired of having to sit at a desk, writing alllll day, wouldn’t they, while you’re out on an op.”

“I- I would tell them. They’d understand,” Jake tried to answer, his memories of the past clouding his mind. 

“Hmmm, maybe at first, but by the hundredth day filing paperwork, while you’re out in the field, having a great time? They’d ditch you for sure. Then where would you be? Begging for attention from your captain. Think it through, Jakey. It wouldn’t be nothin’ weird. Once or twice a week.” 

“You’re trying to blackmail me into sleeping with you.” 

“C’mon Jakey, we all know you’re an attention whore. Gotta have everyone’s eyes on you at all time,” the Vulture said, moving closer and sweeping his eyes down Jake’s body. “You could sacrifice your friendships, watch them wither around you, or you could have a little bit of sex. You know you want this, too. So whaddya say?” he asked, a cruel smile on his face. 

Jake hesitated, closing his eyes. “You swear?” he asked, wanting to make sure his captain was telling the truth. 

“Yes,” the reply came. “Blah, blah, blah, give back cases, be nice. I can do that.” 

“Fine,” Jake said, breathing in deep before opening them and sticking out his hand. 

Pembroke smiled deeper, accepting the hand and giving it a firm shake. “I knew you’d come to your senses. Now, follow me,” his voice hardened into an ordering tone, and he walked deeper into the apartment. Jake took a breath and followed him. 

\---

Five minutes later, Jake’s hands were cuffed behind his back, and he lay face down on the old mattress. So far, only his shoes and socks had been removed. 

“Alright now, Jakey, don’t move too much,” the Vulture said behind him. Jake turned his head to see what he was holding. The older man ran his thumb down the blade of a pocket knife that glinted in the low light. 

He stiffened as the cold metal touched the back of his shirt and dug in, slicing the fabric and making a shallow cut on his shoulder blade. He hissed, feeling it slide down the length of his back until the shirt was cut in half and a long cut traced its way down. Jake could feel blood welling gently. With a few more cuts to the arms, the shirt had been removed from him entirely. 

“Now, I could do the pants the same way, and you’d have to walk home naked, but I’ll be nice this time,” Pembroke gruffed from behind him, reaching underneath Jake to unbuckle his belt. He pulled the leather strap out and grabbed the denim of his jeans, pulling them until they were off his legs. Jake’s underwear followed next. He shivered in the cold air.

“That is a pretty sight to see, Jakey. You all laid out nicely for me,” the Vulture said, leaning up close to his ear, licking the shell. Jake’s mind had gone into overdrive, trying to find a way out of this while keeping his friendships alive. He closed his eyes, trying to come up with a plan. Even if he could get away, his hands were still handcuffed and he had no way to put on his clothes. 

Pain bloomed on his ass, and he jolted forwards, startled out of his thoughts. “What the hell?” he asked, trying to look behind him. A sharp smack echoed through the room as he was hit again, and he gasped through the pain. 

“No talking, Jakey. Actually, I’ve got an idea,” the man said, smacking Jake’s ass hard one more time before heading out of the room. 

From his spot on the bed, he heard a cabinet open somewhere in the house, and footsteps neared the bedroom again moments later. Jake heard a ripping noise from behind him, and before he could turn his head to look, his hair was being jerked back. He grunted in pain as a sticky piece of tape landed on his face, covering his mouth. Jake cried out, beginning to panic. This was really happening. A calloused, rough hand squeezed tight on his ass before it came down roughly again. 

“Hmmm, maybe a few more,” the Vulture thought out loud, ripping off two more pieces and taping them over top of the first place, further muffling Jake’s cries. “Much better. Alright, now, let’s get you in position,” Pembroke said, lifting Jake’s legs until they were tucked up under him, his reddening ass on full display. 

“That is one tight ass you’ve got, Jakey. Bet it’s gonna feel great,” his captain said, stripping himself of his shirt and pants. Once naked, the older man traced around the puckered hole. “You stay right there, Jakey, I’m gonna get lubed up.” 

Jake shuddered as the Vulture went to a drawer and popped a cap. He kept his eyes closed as he felt his captain’s cock at his rear. 

A finger was shoved in roughly, barely anything on it, another one added seconds later, stretching Jake’s ass uncomfortably. “Oh, yeah, this is gonna be awesome,” the captain said. He quickly removed his fingers, gripping Jake’s hips hard enough to bruise, and began to press in. It _hurt,_ a sharp burning sensation _._ He’d done stuff like this before, but had always taken the time to stretch himself before doing anything. Pembroke had done none of that. The little amount of lube the Vulture had used on himself meant he was going in almost dry, and the pain ramped up as the pressure on his ass increased. Jake screamed into his gag as the Vulture pressed inch by inch into him, a tear involuntarily running down his face. 

It seemed to take forever for Pembroke to bottom out. Once he was fully inside his detective, he wasted no time getting to work, slamming his dick hard and deep inside Jake. Grunts, moans, and muffled cries filled the small bedroom space. Jake felt something tear inside him, blood beginning to run down his thighs. The Vulture leaned over the smaller man, sinking his teeth into Jake’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood. The man sat up, lifting Jake’s chest with him and holding him tight by the neck, one hand still digging into his hip. The position made it so every thrust drove deeper into Jake, tearing further at his ass. He cried out.

“Tell me how it feels, Jakey boy, do I make you feel good?” Pembroke growled between grunts, licking and biting along Jake’s ear and neck. He involuntarily shuddered at the man’s voice, closing his eyes. A sharp pain bit into his ass, the captain’s hand having left his hip to slap him. Jake cried out again, eyes opening again. “I said, tell me how it feels, you slut,” he growled again, tightening his grip on Jake’s neck. He could feel bruises forming. The Vulture’s hand reached up across his body to grip a nipple, pulling and twisting it roughly. 

Jake shook his head no, wanting it all to stop. He closed his eyes again, tears leaking out the sides. 

Slowing down, Pembroke searched for Jake’s prostate. He fucked him slowly, feeling every inch of his tight ass, until he brushed up against the sweet spot, and the younger man jumped. “You like that?” he asked viciously, angling his dick to hit it again. A moan fell from Jake’s mouth involuntarily. “That’s what I like to hear. I did invite you here for a good time, Jakey.” 

The Vulture continued fucking into Jake’s body, hitting his prostate every time. He groaned as Jake’s walls tightened impossibly around him with each thrust. Pembroke’s hips stuttered as he neared his climax. He came inside his detective with a shout, shooting deep into the man’s ass. 

Jake’s eyes were still closed, and heavy breathing from both men filled the room. His cock was painfully hard, but he didn’t want to be around this slimeball any longer than he needed to be. He felt the Vulture push out of him with a painful pop, felt the blood and semen drying down the back of his thighs. He had never felt more disgusting. 

“Let me help you with that little problem you got,” his captain said from behind him, flipping him onto his back. The cuffs dug painfully into the cuts from earlier. Jake had opened his eyes when he’d been rolled over, but closed them again to avoid looking at the man’s face. Pembroke slapped his face roughly. “Hey, look at me. Don’t close your eyes,” he said gruffly.

He cracked open his lids, making eye contact and hating every moment of it. A calloused thumb ran over the tip of his dick, making Jake jump. “You like that? Gonna watch me while I get you off?” the Vulture taunted, repeating the motion. A moan fell from Jake’s mouth as the man gripped his cock, beginning to move his hand up and down. 

He could feel the pleasure growing inside him, despite his internal protests. It pooled in his stomach, increasing with every stroke, until the feeling ran over and he came. “Good boy, Jakey. Now, I got stuff to do, so let’s get you out of here. No one hears about this, got it?” He closed his eyes, nodding slightly and letting his thoughts drift as the Vulture moved around his apartment. 

The jingling of keys brought him out of his mind. His arms were dragged roughly to the side. One hand at a time, the cuffs were unlocked, and Jake pulled his arms to his chest, rubbing the red marks from where he had pulled a little too hard. He reached up, ripping the duct tape off his mouth, wincing as it pulled his skin. 

“Alright. You can go now. I’ll see you here at nine o’clock sharp on Wednesday,” Pembroke told him, throwing his jeans and underwear towards the bed. He listened as the Vulture tugged on a pair of pants from a drawer and headed into the living room.

Jake lay still on the bed, breathing deeply, knowing that moving was going to hurt. Bracing himself, he shifted one leg, then the other, until he was sitting up. He winced as he stood. His ass burned and ached with each move he made. Slowly, Jake tugged on his jeans, movements careful and calculated. 

His mind had shut down almost completely. Glancing around the room, he grabbed one of his captain’s t-shirts to cover his torso, before tugging on his shoes and booking it out of there. 

  
  
  


\---

Warm air rushed into Jake’s face as he opened the door to a store. He’d mapped himself there, knowing they sold makeup. The walk there had been exceptionally uncomfortable, but he was figuring out how to move at a normal pace that didn’t hurt too much. He knew that if he didn’t cover the bruises on his throat, he was going to get questions, none of which he wanted. He needed to keep the whole agreement thing under wraps.

A store attendant walked up to him. In a polite voice she asked, “Hi! Can I help you find anything today?” 

Jake nodded. “Yeah, um, Eliza,” he said, reading her nametag, “could you help me find some makeup to cover bruises?” he asked politely, voice rougher than he expected it to be. 

She nodded, taking note of his neck but not saying anything. “Follow me. Will you need help picking out a shade to match your skin?” Eliza asked, walking through the store. Jake followed.

“Yeah, I’ve never actually worn makeup before,” he said with a laugh, trying to make the situation lighter. 

“Alright. Here is what we’ve got.” She stopped in front of a large display of foundations. Jake took them all in, not even knowing where to start. Sensing his discomfort, Eliza took over. “It looks like you’ve got a warm undertone, so we’ll pick a shade that matches that. How about…this one?” she asked, handing him a bottle. He looked at it for a moment, not sure what to do. “Hold it up to your jawline,” Eliza instructed. Jake did so, and she nodded in satisfaction. “That one looks like an almost perfect match.” 

“Thank you,” Jake told her genuinely. 

She nodded. “This brand also comes with a free foundation brush when you check out.” 

He smiled tightly at her, heading towards the checkout and pulling out his wallet to pay. The cashier made small talk, as he handed over the appropriate amount of cash. She placed his foundation in a bag, handing it over the counter. Jake thanked her with a nod, before walking back into the cold New York air. 

When he got home, he made a beeline for the shower. He stripped off his clothes as fast as possible, shoving them in a bag to throw out the next day. He wished he had Rosa’s pyro gear to burn it to the ground. 

Turning the water up as hot as it would go, he stepped in. It burned his skin, but he could still feel his captain’s hands roaming his body, roughly gripping him. A choked sob fell from his lips, and he grabbed the loofah Amy had left at his place. Aggressively, he scrubbed at his skin, trying to get the feeling of hands to go away. Jake sank to the floor of his shower, trying to cleanse his skin. He watched as it turned bright red from the abrasiveness of the heat and his cleaning. Tears leaked unknowingly from his eyes. His back burned where the hot water ran over the slices in his skin. He sat under the stream until it ran cold. Jake shakily got to his feet, stumbling into his bedroom and putting on the biggest sweater he owned, before sliding into bed. 

\----

Jake walked into the precinct the next morning, a broad smile on his face. Charles had taken the elevator up with him, and he listened as his friend rambled about something he and Geniveve had done the night before. “C’mon man, no one wants to hear about that,” he said, interrupting as the door opened. 

“You say that, but even you would think it’s hot,” Charles replied, heading to his desk. 

Jake walked as normally as possible to his desk, leaning down to give Amy a peck on his way. “Hey, sorry I didn’t text you last night. I got home pretty late and went pretty much straight to bed,” he told her with a smile, sitting down slowly. 

“It’s alright,” she said, before leaning in and lowering her voice. “Did it work, do you think? I mean, he didn’t call us names this morning...” 

“Santiago,” the Vulture called, stepping out of his office with a stack of folders. Amy looked up. “Give these back to whoever.” She smiled at Jake, walking forwards to take the stack. 

“Great job, babe,” she whispered as she placed a few folders on his desk. He smiled at her as genuinely as possible. 

Everyone got back to work, Jake and Amy occasionally tossing comments back and forth to each other about their cases. It was a good distraction from feeling hands all over his body, and he was grateful for the opportunity to be around his girlfriend in a non sexual way. He didn’t think he could handle that anytime soon. 

After a few hours of working, Terry walked up to Jake’s desk, clapping him on the shoulder. The unexpected hand on him made Jake freeze, but he took in his surroundings and reminded himself that he was at work. The Vulture wouldn’t try anything at the office. “I wanted to say thank you for doing what you did, Jake. It means a lot. The whole squad is grateful for you,” the sergeant said, smiling at Jake. 

“Yeah, man, it was like, no big deal. We just hung around, had a few beers,” he told Terry, hating how rough his voice sounds. 

“You alright, man? Your voice is off.” Damnit. Jake was hoping that he wouldn’t notice that. 

“If the Vulture ever offers you a beer, don’t accept it. I spent half the night coughing, it tasted so bad,” he spun, trying to get his friends off his case. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Terry said, before walking back to his desk. 

The rest of the day went by smoothly, and before he knew it, Jake was walking out the door with Amy. “Hey babe, I’ve got some stuff to take care of back at home, but I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told her, praying she would accept it and not push to come back to his apartment with him. He knew if things started going how they usually did, he was going to break.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ve got to reorganize my pots and pans. They don’t quite fit in the drawer right, and I need to find a better place for them,” she responded. Jake laughed.

“Sounds like a riveting night. I’ll see you tomorrow, babe.”

He breathed a sigh of relief as he got into his car, feeling a little guilty. He felt bad for blowing his girlfriend off, but there was no way he could have sex after what had happened with the Vulture. 

When he got home, Jake went right for the shower again, still feeling his captain’s hands on his hips, his chest, his neck, all over his body. Again, he turned it up as hot as it would go, feeling the scalding water run over his skin. The makeup he’d applied to his bruises ran off in tan streams down his body. He scrubbed as hard as he could, but the hands still haunted him. Once the water ran cold, he got out and toweled himself off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his reflection. Bags dragged under his eyes from the lack of sleep he’d gotten the night before, and dark bruises stood stark against his skin. He sighed, once more pulling on the baggiest clothes he owned, and sat on his bed with an open case for another sleepless night. 

\----

Wednesday came, and Jake cursed himself as he ran up the steps to the Vulture’s apartment. He’d been so into a case he’d lost track of time, and was now late as a result. Steeling himself, he knocked on the door. 

“Peralta. You’re late,” Pembroke growled, dragging him inside. “What do you have to say for yourself?” 

“I’m sorry, I got distracted by --” Jake tried to answer, before his captain grabbed his throat and slammed him against the wall hard enough to see stars. 

“Frankly, I don’t care. But I’ve got something planned, since you were so late,” the Vulture said, tightening his grip on Jake’s neck for a moment. “Take off your shirt,” he said, commanding him. Nervously, Jake complied, tossing the fabric to the floor once his chest was bare. Pembroke grinned before turning the younger man against the wall and cuffing his hands behind his back. Gripping Jake’s hair, the Vulture dragged him into the bedroom, throwing him roughly onto the bed, ass up. 

Roughly, the man ripped Jake’s belt off and dragged his pants down, leaving his ass in open air. He pulled his pants and boxers off his legs, discarding them somewhere in the room. “Gotta keep you quiet,” the Vulture said, grabbing a strip of fabric he’d tied a large knot into, shoving it into Jake’s mouth and tying it behind his head. “That’s better. Gonna make you cry tonight, Jakey.” 

Jake closed his eyes. This was really happening again, and he was powerless to stop it. Anticipation rose in his stomach for whatever the Vulture was going to do to him. 

A loud smack echoed through the small room, and Jake jolted forwards, grunting in pain. It was a different kind of sting than the last time, though, and so he turned his head to see what was happening. His captain held Jake’s belt in his hand, arm pulled back to strike again. The buckle was not the end he was holding, and he bit down as the metal bit into his ass. He could feel blood welling to the surface. 

“How many minutes were you late?” Pembroke asked, bringing the buckle down again. Tears sprung to Jake’s eyes. He certainly was going to cry. “I asked you a question, Jakey,” the man said, repeating his motions. 

“Seventeen,” Jake tried to reply through the gag, but it came out muffled. 

“You’re going to count,” the Vulture said, continuing to bring the belt down. “One for each minute you had me waiting. Understand?” Jake nodded, closing his eyes against the pain.

“One,” he counted. “Two. Three.” He could feel blood starting to run down the curve of his ass. Jake counted, up until seventeen, each strike hurting more and more until tears ran down his face unwillingly. _Glad I’m out in the field tomorrow,_ he thought, knowing sitting down was going to hurt like a bitch. 

Jake could hear his captain stripping in the small space, and once again, the pop of a cap came, and his ass was on fire again. Once the Vulture was finished, Jake lay on the bed in pain, too sore to move. “Get up,” the man told him, not bothering to finish Jake off like he had the last time. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson. Monday, same time. Now go home,” he said, unlocking the cuffs and once more throwing Jake’s clothes at him. Jake took the gag off, not sure what to do with it, eventually settling on leaving it on the bed. He slowly tugged on his clothes, wincing as they pulled on his ass. He covered himself up, and left as quickly as he could. 

\---

Soon, Jake fell into a routine. He learned how to do makeup to cover up the bruises that his captain left on his skin, and tried not to flinch at the people moving around him. He slept less and less, bags growing deep under his eyes. He stopped eating except only when necessary. His skin paled to nearly paper white. He tried to keep up his normal joking and positive attitude, but as time went on, the words fell away from his mouth. 

The squad would always ask how he was doing, but he always greeted them with a smile and brushed it off. They didn’t need to know what was happening. He could feel their worry anyways.

Jake stopped going over to Amy’s, instead preferring to go home and work on cases long into the night. He knew he was worrying his girlfriend, but he had to keep up with the Vulture to protect himself and his squad. (He didn’t think he could bear to be alone again.) 

One night she called him, almost in tears. “Jake, what’s going on? I need you to talk to me. You’ve been avoiding me for weeks now.”

“I can’t tell you, Amy. You’ll hate me,” he choked out, tears welling in his own eyes. 

“I can’t keep doing this, Jake. You’re falling, and you won’t let anyone help you. I’m here when you’re ready, but I don’t know what to do. Maybe we should take a break,” she said, hesitating on the last sentence. 

“Amy, please don’t go… I need you. I can’t do this without you,” Jake nearly sobbed. 

“I’m sorry, Jake. I’m here for you, and I do love you. I just feel like this is a very one-sided relationship, and I can’t keep doing that. I’m sorry. I’ll see you on Monday, okay?” 

“Amy, wait!” he cried into the phone. “I’m sorry too, I can do better, I just...I can’t tell you what’s going on.” 

“Whenever you’re ready, you can tell me what’s happening. I’m sorry,” she said, before the line went dead. 

He threw himself hard into his work, it being the only thing that could distract him from the hands and eyes that followed him around. He avoided everyone in the office, even going out on his own again, though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t. Anything to spend as much time in the field as possible in order to avoid their stares. 

Finally, he saw an opportunity to get the Vulture out of the office. An old case had sprung up, one of the chief’s cold cases that had never been solved. Jake grinned, knowing if he could solve the case, he could convince the chief to reinstate Captain Holt to the 99. 

He took the files, heading towards the PR department to talk to Holt. He knew he might have to work to convince the former captain to help him on the case, but he was ready to do whatever it took. 

\----

Holt had just entered the bathroom when he heard a very obviously fake bird noise. He turned, frowing. He knew exactly who it was, and decided to poke to see what Peralta wanted. 

Entering the stall, the two stood very close to each other. Peralta showed him the case, the new information, and asked for his help in solving the murders. He studied his former detective, noting the deep bags under his eyes and the almost manic energy that seemed to radiate from him. Internally, Holt knew that he shouldn’t, but the thrill-seeking side of him leapt into action, and he found himself agreeing to help. Maybe he could figure out what was up with Peralta in the meantime. 

\---

Jake internally cursed himself on repeat on his way to Wunch’s office with Holt. They’d gone for the wrong guy, and now Pembroke could be onto him. (It was a Wednesday, so he knew he’d be in for it later.) 

Holt stood calmly next to him as the lecturing began, and Jake tried to mimic his attitude. His hands shook and his heartbeat felt way too fast. He could feel his hands clamming up. 

“You both have a week’s suspension. I expect no more of this nonsense from either of you,” Wunch said sternly, looking down her nose at both of them. “Dismissed.” Jake shivered as he felt Pembroke’s eyes on him, but nodded anyways, before turning and leaving. 

“That could have gone much worse,” he said as lightly as possible to Holt. He received a grunt in return. Footsteps echoed down the hall after the two, and Jake turned, gut falling as he saw who was following. 

“Peralta, a word?” his captain requested. Jake paused, nodding to Holt, who continued down the hallway. 

“What’s up?” he asked, trying to be casual. 

\----

Holt had never been the greatest spy. He much preferred working in the open, seeing evidence and making conclusions and connections on a case. 

But he could do it. Throughout his time working with Peralta on this case, he had noticed an almost frantic energy about the other man. Something had rattled him. Holt wanted to figure out what had jarred Peralta enough to send him into this state. 

So, after Pembroke called Peralta back to speak to him, Holt continued down the hallway, but turned a corner at a distance where he could listen in. 

“What are you planning, Peralta?” the Vulture asked gruffly. 

“I’m not planning anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peralta answered smoothly. 

“What’s wrong, Jakey? I know you’re trying to get Holt back. Do you not like how I do it?” Fabric shifted with the comment, and Pembroke’s voice lowered at the end. Holt caught the shift in tone, almost husky. He frowned. What did that mean? 

“I’m not planning anything,” the detective replied, this time a little more shakily. An obvious lie. Almost anyone could see through that. 

“Sure you’re not. Anymore shenanigans, and I’ll have to punish you. You wouldn’t like it, trust me. Now go.” Holt listened to a set of footsteps walk in the other direction, fading out after a few moments. A choked sound echoed through the hallway. He frowned. What had happened in the conversation that had distressed Peralta so much? He thought back through the exchange. A few of the comments sounded like innuendoes, but Pembroke had a mark on his record for harassment, and he usually targeted women. Holt remembered when the Vulture had come in while he’d been captain. Pembroke had laid his hands on Peralta, and only Peralta, during his time there. _Oh._

A horrible idea grew in his mind. He would wish anything for it to not be true, though. If Pembroke was forcing Peralta to….

And why had Peralta been so insistent on this case in particular? Holt wondered as he quickly made his way to his office to pack his things. He stopped in place, smiling a little when he realized why. It was one of Chief Garmin’s biggest failures. He was going to exchange credit for Holt to be captain.

“Smart man,” he said to himself, grabbing his things and hurrying to find his detective.

The hallway where he’d left him was empty, but Holt knew where Peralta would be hiding. He walked slowly towards the bathroom, gathering his thoughts of what to say. He didn’t want to be insensitive, but he also knew that the detective needed help, and probably a lot of it, too. Holt sighed, having reached the door.

Knocking twice, he called out. “Peralta? May I come in?”

“It’s unlocked,” a shaky voice said from inside.

Holt pushed the door open to see Peralta in a ball on the floor, eyes closed, tugging at his hair hard enough that pieces were falling to rest on his jacket. His breathing was fast and ragged. The man was deep into a panic attack.

“Jake,” he said, realizing that he wasn’t dealing with Peralta in this situation. “Can I come sit next to you?” he asked, stepping into the room slowly. A nod from the other man moving across the room. Holt slid down the wall to sit next to the man, but gave him space. “Jake. Can you breathe with me?” A choked sob fell from Jake’s mouth. “I’m going to count. Breathe in for four, and out for four, okay? Focus on my voice.” He managed to nod. Good. Holt began counting in sets of four, and slowly, Jake’s breathing evened out. The grip on his hair loosened. When it seemed Jake had recovered enough, Holt stopped counting.

“Sorry, sir,” the detective said raggedly. “Didn’t mean for it to get this bad.”

Holt wasn’t sure if he was talking about Jake’s other situation, or his panic attack. “Don’t worry about that, Jake. I’m more concerned about you. Care to tell me what is going on?”

Unsurprisingly, Jake shook his head. “Can’t.” Holt suspected as much.

“That’s alright. I know what you’re planning, and I’m going to help you finish the case.”

At that, the younger man looked up. “You are?” he asked incredulously.

“If it will help your wellbeing, and I suspect it will, then I am willing to help you. We will have to be more careful about it this time. Why don’t we go back to my place and discuss this?” Holt offered. Jake nodded, wiping his face with his sleeves before standing up, determined to get it done. Holt smiled internally.

\--

Once Jake figured the connection between the victims, the case was easily closed. He smiled for what felt the first time in as Chief Garmin’s shook his hand, securing Holt back as the Nine-Nine’s captain.

On his way out, Jake looked to his neglected messages to update his squad, including Holt to update them on the situation.

He felt lighter than he had since the Vulture came to office and he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. Since he was still on suspension, he decided to go home and get some rest to prepare for the sure celebrations that would happen that night.

As soon as he reached his apartment, he crashed on the couch, mind at peace enough for him to sleep. When he woke, the sun was casting orange through his windows. He stretched and checked his phone. Various responses had come in while he slept, most of them incredulous and excited, Boyle had sent almost fifteen messages, while Rosa had merely sent the word “nice”, followed by an invitation for drinks at Shaw’s.

He replied to all of them with varying degrees of smiling faces, still feeling the buoyancy from earlier.

Standing up from the couch, Jake went to the kitchen to grab an orange soda. The glass bottle felt cool against his hand, and he popped the cap off the drink and took a long swig. Satisfied, he moved back into his living room and started some shitty action movie that was on.

A knock at the door surprised him, and he stood up to answer, expecting it to be Amy or one of his neighbors. He didn’t check the peephole, and after opening the door, felt a solid hand to his cheek, sending his head reeling to the right. A boot hit his knee, and he collapsed on the ground in pain. _Shit shit shit,_ he thought. The boot hit his stomach, making Jake gag.

“Little bitch,” the Vulture growled. He grabbed the glass soda bottle out of Jake’s hand, swinging it back and shattering it against Jake’s head as he tried to sit back up, sending him back to the ground and glass flying everywhere. Instead of sitting up, the younger man hooked his legs around his ex-captain’s and twisted, causing Pembroke to lose his balance and fall.

Jake scrambled up, dizzy but desperate, reaching for his phone on the coffee table. He’d left it unlocked, expecting to come right back, and it still sat open to his conversation with Rosa. He clicked the call button just as his phone was flung out of his hand, landing under his couch.

Pembroke wrapped his arm around Jake’s neck, gripping tightly. He scratched at the arm, trying to get purchase so he could breathe, but to no avail. Just as black spots covered his vision, the Vulture released him. Falling on a few shards of glass, Jake gasped as air re-entered his lungs. He could feel blood trickling onto his carpet from cuts on his stomach, legs, and head. Jake lay on the floor as the Vulture cuffed his arms tightly behind his back.

“Whatever you did, undo it,” he growled, kicking Jake in the ribs.

“Can’t,” he replied cheekily, despite his pain. His head ached. “Already been done. How does it feel?” he asked, taunting the ex-captain. The boot hit his ribs again, and the pain flared. Jake grunted in pain.

“Good for nothing piece of shit,” the Vulture cursed, kicking him with every word. He felt something snap in his chest before the man leaned over him, covering his mouth. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he began, leaning in and wrenching his head back, eliciting a pained cry. Jake could practically taste the booze on his breath as he whispered.

\---

Rosa had known something was up with Jake for weeks, but she couldn’t figure out what. He’d been avoiding them for the majority of those weeks, even going out into the field on his own. She couldn’t figure out why, only knowing that something had bitten him, so to speak. She’d even threatened their thousand push-ups deal, but to no avail.

It all came to a head when her phone rang just as she was getting to Shaw’s, Jake’s name running across the top. A bad feeling settled in her gut. He never called anyone, except when strictly necessary. If he was calling her, something bad had happened.

She picked up the phone, answering with her name. “Jake?” she called when no answer came through. Multiple thumps sounded, pained cries following each one of them. Rosa put the phone on speaker so she could track his location.

“Whatever you did, undo it,” the Vulture’s voice echoed over the speaker. Jake cried out as she heard another thump. _Shit,_ she thought. This was bad.

“Can’t. Already been done,” Jake’s voice came through. “How does It feel?” he taunted, and Rosa prayed he would just shut up.

“Good for nothing piece of shit,” the Vulture said, more blows being landed on her friend. A shout came, and Rosa winced. Jake’s ragged breathing was suddenly muffled, and their ex-captain’s slimy voice moved closer. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he began. “I’m going to whip you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a month. Then, I’m going to fuck you so hard you forget every name except mine.”

It came to Rosa then, why Jake had been so closed off the past few weeks. She couldn’t dwell on that right now though. She had to help him. Hanging up on Jake, she dialed Amy’s number. She answered on the second ring. “Hey, Rosa, where are you? We’re—”

“Jake’s in trouble. The Vulture. Tell Gina to call Holt and Terry, and let them know to go to Jake’s apartment. I’m on my motorcycle outside. Hurry,” Rosa instructed curtly, starting her motorcycle and putting her helmet back on.

Amy emerged from the bar a few moments later, clearly distraught. Rosa handed her spare helmet to the detective, helping her buckle the chin strap. As soon as she was secure, Rosa took off through New York’s traffic towards Jake’s apartment. She wove through cars as fast as she could, being cautious but also hurrying. Amy’s arms clung tight to her waist. 

In record time that seemed to take an eternity, they pulled up. Rosa locked her wheel and threw her helmet off, grabbing her gun out of her holster, Amy doing the same. “Amy,” she called, as her friend was about to run up the stairs. “You might not like what you find. The Vulture said he was going to assault Jake. Be careful, okay?” she said. Amy nodded, turning to climb up the stairs. Rosa grabbed her arm before she could move, and Amy spun to face her friend once more. “I don’t mean in a beat-up kind of way,” she said, her face serious. “Though that, too.”

Amy paled as she realized the implication behind Rosa’s words, before determination settled across her face. She nodded again, and together, they started up.

Their feet echoed through the stairwell as they climbed the three floors to Jake’s apartment. Once they reached his floor, the pair slowed, creeping noiselessly through the hall. The door to Jake’s apartment was closed, and they paused outside, each on a side. Rosa nodded to Amy, who turned the handle, quickly moving into the apartment. Once they entered the room, they could hear sounds coming from the back of the unit. “Clear,” she called, finding no one in the living room and kitchen.

Following the noise slowly, Rosa took the lead and pushed the door to Jake’s bedroom open. “Hands where I can see them,” she said, taking in the scene. Amy entered behind her and let out a gasp.

Her friend lay face down on the mattress, the Vulture leaning over him. Duct tape was layered over Jake’s mouth, and she could see bruises littering his face. When Pembroke sat up from where he had been leaning at Rosa’s command, she could see his back. It was covered nearly entirely in blood, welts having burst open from repeated abuse. He groaned at the movement.

“You wanna join in?” the Vulture asked with a slimy smile that Rosa wanted to punch off his face. 

“You have two seconds. Get. Off. Him.” Amy’s voice had never sounded so cold. His smile fell. 

“Alright, alright,” he said, pulling himself off, keeping his hands in the air. Jake whimpered from his spot on the bed. 

“Amy, you take care of him. I’ll deal with this scumbag,” Rosa told her friend, who had glanced concernedly over at her whatever-the-hell they were at this point. She looked back and nodded, moving towards Jake. “You. Turn around,” she said to Pembroke. He complied, looking slightly frightened by her tone. Rosa pulled the handcuffs off her belt, holstering her gun. Rosa grabbed his left arm, pulling it behind his back, when his right arm plucked the gun from where it had settled. She let go of his other hand, putting both of hers in the air, knowing the gun was pointed at Jake. _Damnit, Diaz, you’re smarter than this._

“You don’t have to do this,” Rosa said, shifting to be in front of the bed. 

“I’m not gonna let you bitches take this from me,” he replied with a snarl. 

“Put the gun down. This doesn’t have to come to this,” she tried. She’d shifted to where she was almost completely in front of Jake, who was shaking on the bed. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, she flicked her fingers to Amy, behind her enough to where Pembroke couldn’t see her pull her gun.

“Don’t tell me what to do. I should’ve done this a long time ago,” he said, eyes flicking back to Jake. 

Time froze as Rosa watched him pull the trigger. She heard the explosion, felt her body move. A second bang echoed through the apartment, but it didn’t register. She hit the floor with a grunt, everything speeding back up. Pain flared hot through her shoulder, and she reached up to touch it, hand coming away red. 

She glanced down to the floor, where the Vulture lay clutching his thigh, red trickling out from under his hand. She smiled a bit at that. He deserved it, and so much worse. Amy had managed to make it so he couldn’t run from his fate. 

Rosa went to stand, hiding a wince as she jostled her shoulder. Amy was hovering in her peripheral, not entirely sure what to do. “Take care of Jake, Amy. I’m fine,” she said, gritting her teeth as she moved towards Pembroke. He scrambled for the gun that had fallen out of his grip when he’d been shot, but Rosa kicked it down the hallway. Grabbing the abandoned handcuffs, she squatted down, roughly dragging his hands behind his back and cuffing them securely, before checking the wound on his leg. “Amy, do you know where any towels are? I’ve gotta keep pressure on his leg or he’s gonna bleed out.” 

Amy glanced over from where she was taking Jake’s hands out of the metal cuffs, rolling him onto his back. “Yeah, there should be some in the kitchen drawer beside the stove. You should--” she began, before Rosa cut her off. 

“I’m fine, Amy. Jake is the priority now.” She left no room in her tone to argue. Standing up, she grabbed her phone. “I’m texting Holt to call an ambulance, and that the scene is secure.” 

The towels were right where Amy had said they were, and Rosa grabbed four before heading back into the bedroom. 

On the bed, Amy had wrapped Jake in a fleece blanket. He stared blankly at the wall, tears streaming slowly from his eyes. Amy was talking to him softly, but he made no apparent move to answer. Rosa’s heart hurt for him, but she pushed that down and focused instead on the rage that was boiling violently inside of her. 

She knelt once more, putting pressure on the Vulture’s steadily bleeding wound with her good arm. “I’m gonna get you fired,” he threatened. “Stripped of your rank, until you’ve got nothing left.” 

“I don’t think so.” Rosa leaned in, smile sharp. “You’re gonna go to jail, and pay for your crimes. You don’t mess with the nine-nine.” 

Just then, the door to Jake’s apartment burst open. Holt’s voice echoed through the hallway. “NYPD!” 

“In the bedroom,” Rosa called back, holding the towel in place on the Vulture’s leg. The bleeding had slowed slightly, but the towel was still turning red quickly. “Vulture’s down. Probably needs an ambulance,” she said, glancing up as two sets of footsteps entered the room. 

“Rosa got hit in the shoulder, too,” Amy called from the bed, where she was gently petting Jake’s hair. 

“I’m fine,” Rosa gritted out, glaring at her friend. “Get this fucker decent.” 

Terry and Holt entered the room, rage on their faces. On the bed, Jake tensed, curling further into himself. “Uh, no offence guys, but could you do that in the living room?” Amy asked, noticing Jake’s reaction. “I’m going to help Jake clean up once the medics get here.”

The Sergeant nodded, grabbing Pembroke by the shoulders and physically lifting him out of the room, leaving Rosa and Amy once more in the room. “Rosa, you need to get your shoulder checked out.” Rosa nodded, realizing the amount of emotions in the room was rising to a level she would not want to deal with. 

\----

When Rosa and Amy had barged into the apartment, Jake had been so far gone inside his head he hadn’t noticed the arrival. The Vulture had paused, and a commotion had happened. It didn’t matter. His entire body ached, and he just wanted to be gone. 

Two gunshots had brought him out of his mind, and then suddenly Amy was there, unlocking the cuffs from his hands, peeling the duct tape gently off his face, and covering him in a fleece blanket. He closed his eyes, soaking in the comfort. He could hear her murmuring to him, but none of the words registered. Everything just seemed to be floating around him, but he still hurt. Unbidden, tears flowed out of his eyes onto the fabric of his sheets. He was going to burn them. 

More commotion between his friends caused him to open his eyes, and he watched as his captain and sergeant entered the room. His mind ran through what they could do to him in this situation, and he felt himself subconsciously tense. Jake cursed himself internally. These were his teammates. They would never hurt him. Yet still, he couldn’t get himself to calm down until the echo of their voices came from the hallway and he knew they’d left the room. 

He lay there, mind circling like a vulture, _not the Vulture, you’re safe now,_ when he sensed someone else enter. They came and sat next to him, speaking softly to whoever else was in the room -- right, Amy -- and then to him. “Jake, I’m going to need to check you out, okay? Your friend is going to stay in the room the entire time. It’s just a routine check for any tearing, and getting some samples to check for STIs. If you ever feel uncomfortable, you can let me know and I’ll stop. Okay?” The words floated through his brain, and he found himself nodding. “Okay. Can I take the blanket off?” Jake didn’t respond. He didn’t want to leave the safety of the warm blanket, but somewhere in him, he knew he needed to. Eventually, he gave another nod. The medic got to work, and Jake reached for Amy’s hand, squeezing it tightly as they began checking him out. 

It didn’t take very long, but with every passing second, Jake sank further into his mind. After what seemed like an eternity to him, the medic finally finished and set the blanket gently on top of him once more, before speaking to Amy. He closed his eyes, blocking out the sounds of their conversation. Another eternity passed. 

Amy’s voice came through the haze of his mind. “Jake? Can I help you get cleaned up?” The words barely registered, but he felt himself nodding. “That means you gotta get up,” her voice continued after a pause. “Come on. Let me help you.” Internally he sighed, before putting in a monumental effort to sit up. All of his energy was long gone, and all he wanted was to sleep this nightmare off. 

He stared blankly at a spot of peeling paint on his wall, thoughts drifting slowly. Amy came and sat in front of him, but he couldn’t focus on her face. She looked at him sadly, and a tide of guilt came over him. He was the one making her sad. Reaching out with a shaky hand, the other one desperately clinging to the blanket draped on his shoulders, he slid his palm down her face. Warm skin met his, and he knew that none of this was a dream. Tears ran slowly down the sides of his face. 

Amy’s face contorted as she spoke to him, before getting up. His hand fell back to his side. He wondered what he’d done wrong to make her leave him again. 

After a few moments, she returned. “Alright, Jake. I’ve got the water on warm in the shower. Can I help you?” Once more he found himself nodding, even though the words went straight through his mind. She took his hand, and he once more summoned the little energy left in him to stand and make his way to the shower. He was so tired. 

In the bathroom, he dropped the blanket from his shoulders to step into the warm stream of water. Automatically, he reached for the knob to turn it up hotter. Maybe he could burn the memory of the Vulture’s hands off his skin, if the water was hot enough. Amy grabbed his hand where it rested on the knob, gently turning it back down slightly. A tear leaked from Jake’s eye, and he sat down, letting the water run over his body, rinsing the blood from his back. 

Amy grabbed a washcloth, putting a few squirts of soap on the fabric, before gently beginning to rub it down Jake’s arm. He closed his eyes as she washed his body, avoiding his back, where the water stung the gashes. He knew she was getting her shirt wet, but it felt good, and he didn’t have the energy to do it himself. 

Once she finished cleaning him, she turned the water off, before leaving again. The emptiness in Jake grew as he sat in his tub, listening to water drip down the drain. Momentarily, she returned, wearing a shirt and a pair of his sweatpants, carrying the same clothes for him, plus a pair of boxers. Amy helped him stand up, drying his body off gently with a towel, before helping him step into his clothes. He wanted to say that he wasn’t a baby, he could do it himself, but the words caught on the ginormous knot in his throat. 

Still, he knew what needed to happen. At some point, he’d need to give his statement to Holt about what happened. He wasn’t looking forward to it. Rosa had probably already given hers, but Amy had been helping him. Jake tapped Amy on the shoulder, and she looked at him with surprise in her eyes. “You need to give your statement,” he forced out, voice rough from crying. 

“Jake, it can wait. Your health is more important right now,” she argued. 

“Ames. Rosa can sit with me,” he continued, throat sore. He could feel it bruising from where the Vulture had choked him. “Please,” he tried. He saw resolve set in her eyes, and she nodded. 

“I’ll send her in. I’ll be right back, okay?” She still looked worried, but determined. Jake would have tried to smile to reassure her if he’d had the energy, but he didn’t, so he settled back down on the bed, curling up on his side. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see Amy looking sadly down at him. She sighed, and he heard her socked feet pad down the hallway. A few minutes later, the telltale sound of Rosa’s booted feet came, and the bed sank where she sat down. 

It was silent for a few moments, Jake just losing himself in his mind, when Rosa spoke. “Jake. You know I don’t do all of this...emotional stuff. But you didn’t deserve what happened to you. I’m sorry it took so long for us to figure out what was going on. If you ever want to beat someone up or light something on fire or something, I’m here.” She paused, sighing. “And if you need to talk, I’m here for that too.” 

Jake didn’t respond, but moved his hand out from under the blanket to grasp hers where it rested on the bed. 

A few moments later, Amy returned. Not saying a word, she sat down next to Jake on the bed. She closed her eyes as a few tears leaked out, when a voice from the bed caught her attention. 

Jake’s eyes were open, staring at her dully. “Can you get Holt? I need to do this,” he said, putting as much conviction as he could into the words. 

“You don’t have to give your statement if you’re not ready, Jake. It’s okay to not be okay.” 

“I’m already not okay, but I want to get this over with now, okay? And I want all of you to be there so I don’t have to tell you individually.” 

Amy hesitated, then nodded. “Alright. I’ll go get him. Rosa, you okay to stay here?” At her nod, Amy left the room, returning moments later with their captain. 

Jake let out a breath on the bed, trying to separate the Vulture from Holt as captain. It was the whole person-in-a-position-of-power thing that got to him. He sighed again, sitting up again on the bed, crossing his legs. Holt, sensing his slight unease, took a seat in the chair in the corner. 

“Jake. I want you to know that these... _events_ …have not changed how the squad and I view you. We will be here through your recovery process. Now, whenever you are ready, son.” 

He sighed, knowing it was going to hurt like hell to relive the past months, but also knowing it would be an essential piece to get Pembroke locked away and prevent him from going after his teammates or anyone else. 

“He didn’t give me an option,” Jake began, voice rough, both looking and feeling like he’d very much rather be somewhere else. “I’d gone over to his apartment to try to befriend him so he’d stop treating the squad like shit, but Scully had butt dialed him and he’d heard our conversation about our plan. He...he told me that if...if I didn’t have sex with him, he’d turn the squad against me.” He looked down, tears running down his face again. “He knew what happened before...before I transferred to the nine-nine. He didn’t give me a choice…” Jake trailed off. “ I couldn’t go through what happened again, so I went. I could’ve stopped, but…. I was over there twice a week, on Mondays and Wednesdays. He’d hit me with his belt if I was late. Never this bad, though. It was my fault, anyways.” 

“Jake…” Amy started after he’d trailed off. “It’s not your fault. He manipulated you into your own rape.”

“But I agreed with it, Ames.” He met her gaze, brown eyes staring into her soul. “I said yes to it. It _is_ my fault.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Rosa butt in from next to Jake. 

He sighed. “He...he threatened to push you guys away from me. I didn’t want to lose you.”

Her face softened slightly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

“Me, too,” Amy said. “I pushed you away, too, when you needed me most. I shouldn’t have been so selfish when you were hurting. I’m so sorry, Jake.” She looked seconds away from breaking down. 

Holt clicked his pen from where he sat in the corner. “Jake. I, too, apologize. I should have been there to protect you from...from that despicable being. Santiago is right. It is not your fault. I will do everything in my power to see this man to justice,” he began. 

“I will keep confidential what you have shared in this room, and I trust Santiago and Diaz to do the same. I will need to inform the Sergeant, however. I am giving you time off to recover. I am also assigning you a psychiatrist from the precinct. Santiago, you have this next week off as well.” He paused, glancing at Rosa. “Diaz, you as well. I want that shoulder wound to heal before you come back to work. I will send paperwork over for the two of you during this period. 

Jake sighed at the prospect of seeing a shrink, but was too exhausted to argue. Sharing his story had drained him, and all he wanted to do was sleep it off. “Thank you, captain,” he said. He leaned back onto his pillows. He just noticed that someone had changed the sheets, and he sighed again, closing his eyes. 

“We are here for you, Jake. I trust Diaz and Santiago will check in on you in your absence from the precinct. Please attempt to care for yourself,” Holt said, standing up and heading towards the door, face soft. “I will take my leave now. Goodnight, Jake, Diaz, Santiago.” 

“‘Night, Captain,” Amy said, Rosa repeating it. Jake just opened his eyes briefly and nodded to Holt, who turned and left. 

“Let’s get you to bed, Jake,” Amy said, pulling back the covers. He rolled over, and she pulled the covers over him. “Do you want me to stay here with you tonight?” she asked. 

He opened his dark brown eyes, meeting hers and nodding, before glancing at Rosa. “Actually, um. Could both of you stay, please?” Jake swallowed. “I...I don’t want to be alone.” 

“Can I borrow a pair of your sweats?” Rosa asked, eyebrow raised. At Jake’s nod, she replied, “Dope,” before going to his drawer, pulling out a pair, and leaving the room to change. 

Amy slid in next to him, and he rested his arm over her stomach, tears dampening her shirt. “It’s okay, Jake. He’s not going to be able to get to you. And...I wish I had noticed. I’m sorry that you had to go through this alone. We’re here for you. We love you, okay? _I_ love you.” 

His breath hitched. “I love you too,” he whispered to her back.

Rosa came in, boots in one hand and jacket in the other. She tossed them both into a corner of the room, before sliding into the bed on the other side of Jake.

It was a tight fit for his queen bed, but he drew comfort from the close contact of his friends. 

Rosa began to sing under her breath, something soft in Spanish, and Jake felt himself drift off, exhaustion taking over his body, feeling safe for the first time in months. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if y’all have any fic requests, you can put them in the comments or find me on tumblr at lil-snips!


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